


Always Carry Two Glasses

by hesterbyrde



Series: What Carries Weight [8]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Cabin Sex, Drinking, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Minor Spoilers for Season 2, Open Relationships, Polyamory Negotiations, Porn, Relationship Negotiation, background May/Coulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4091041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesterbyrde/pseuds/hesterbyrde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance Hunter decides he won't make an exception for Coulson after all.</p>
<p>This fic takes place during 02x16 - Afterlife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Carry Two Glasses

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of a larger May/Coulson centered series. If you're just here for the Hunter/Coulson smut, you can skip the relationship negotiations that happen in the first section. 
> 
> Many thanks to KaminaDuck, ArcaneIrony, and HexMeridian for beta reading this fic.
> 
> And of course, thanks to you for reading! Hope you enjoy, and as always, feedback is always appreciated.

Phil had noticed Melinda's mood coming on for awhile. Thankfully, the team was so busy setting up Skye at the safe house and trying to figure out what the hell had happened to Hunter that no one else had really taken note of the fact that May was starting to seem a little off.

But she was. Just a little. Small things like a far away look or a slightly slower reaction time. And one day in his office, when her thousand-yard-stare caused her to drop the stock of the rifle she was cleaning (an activity she had explicitly stated was to clear her head), Coulson decided enough was enough.

“Melinda.” he said, her name falling like a the first raindrop on a still lake. 

She froze mid-scramble, slowly dragging her eyes up to his face. She knew that voice. When Phil's voice went still and authoritative. It was like a steel vice, and that had nothing to do with their... relations. Those had been a recent development relatively speaking. But the way he said her name, when he really wanted her attention... that had been a thing since day one at the Academy. She sat slowly up in the chair, leaving the stock where it lay, and waited for him, eyes fixed on the floor.

He rose from his desk and crossed, dragging another chair to sit opposite her. He placed his hands on her knees and took a slow breath. “Something's eating at you, Melinda.” he said softly. “And it has been for awhile. I left it alone because I wasn't sure if it was just the obvious stress of our current situation, but now I'm fairly certain that it isn't.”

She was still staring at the world's most interesting floor tile as she answered. “Nothing is... wrong, per se.” She trailed off, and Phil shifted in his seat, ducking his head a little to put himself into her line of sight. Finally, her eyes flicked up to his face. “It's...” she sighed heavily, her expression turning a little pitiful. “I've just been... wondering about some things. About Andrew.” 

Phil blinked twice. He had not been expecting that. Melinda hadn't so much as spoken his name since he left the base.

“He and I never spoke much after we divorced.” she continued. “But when he showed up here for Skye, there was... we talked. And part of me realized that not much had really changed. There were things about... us, I guess, that never went away. Some really good things.” She spread her hands and shrugged. “That's what's been bothering me.”

“You two really had something.” Phil nodded, keeping his expression neutral.

There was a beat of silence before Melinda spoke again. “Bahrain was what made it all come apart. I know you know that but... I just... sometimes I wonder. I don't really like to make a habit out of entertaining what-ifs, but that's a significant one. What if I'd never gone to Bahrain? Andrew and I would probably still be together.”

“You'd have a passel of little agents.” Phil answered, laughing against the knot tightening in his gut.

“That's amazing to think about now.” she sighed wistfully as she shook her head.

“Are you having second thoughts?” Phil asked after a long moment's silence. There. Done. Like ripping off a band-aid. Just all at once and get it over with.

She squinted at him then, a strange smile coloring her face. “Do you mean do I want to go try it again? With Andrew?”

“I... maybe? I don't know what I mean.” Phil stood to soften the icy clamp of teeth onto his insides. He had a very sudden need to fiddle with paperwork.

But she was faster, stepping in front of him to keep him facing her. “No.” she answered, the word sharp and clear in the muddle of footsteps. It was his turn to freeze now, his gaze locked on her face. “No, that's not what I want. I don't want to go back to that life. I don't think I can. Bahrain broke that for me and I will be old and gray by the time it can be fixed.” She slid her hands up Phil's arms and shoulders to cup his face. “What I want is this. And I am not going anywhere.”

He relaxed a little, leaning his face into her palm. “I'm sorry.” he huffed, giving an embarrassed smile.

“Don't be. I probably could have communicated that better.” she admitted, leaning in to kiss him, sweet and soft, before nosing at his stubble and breathing in the scent of his aftershave. “I just... I know that old life is out of reach, and I'm okay with that. But if there's something from that mess that can be rescued, I want to try. If,” she slid her hands down to rest against his chest. She tried not to think about the fact that she could feel the texture of the scar through Phil's shirt. “And only if it won't break this.” 

“I guess we never did discuss...options for something like this.” Phil shrugged, feeling the grip of anxiety lessening.

She shook her head. “Don't feel pressured.”

He heaved a sigh. “I don't, really. I'm just glad this isn't a breakup speech.”

She smiled then, the real Melinda May smile that was full of warmth and patience and all the things Phil associated with everything being right and good in his world. “It's not. I just can't leave things like they are with Andrew. But I belong here.”

“I heartily agree with that assessment.” he responded, smiling so wide that his eyes crinkled at the corners.

“So if the opportunity arises...” she trailed off, swaying gently in his arms.

“By all means.” Phil affirmed before sweeping his arms around her kissing her in turn. “Just come back to me.”

***

“The problem is there are no good options.” Phil told Lance gravely, staring at his hands where they were folded over the back of the chair.

That assessment lay heavily in the air of the cabin. So much so that Lance couldn't suppress the urge to snark, “Well, maybe it's time for some bad ones.” he replied before downing his second whiskey.

Phil fixed him with a pointed stare. “What did you have in mind?”

Lance snorted and gave a noncommittal shrug, but didn't answer.

“So, do you usually bring a date to a safe house?”

“I'm not stupid, Coulson.” Lance said with a withering glare. “I usually make liberal use of the car if they don't have a room available. You know the back seats in those Humvees fold all the way down?”

“Remind me to have every vehicle steam cleaned when I get back to base.” Phil replied rolling his eyes as he flopped back down on the couch.

“That's your takeaway on that?” Lance asked with a laugh.

“No, my takeaway is that if you aren't picking up people during your ops, you must make a habit of sleeping with your partners.”

Lance snorted again. “I confess it is a habit.” he leered. “Bless me Director, for I have sinned.”

Coulson chuckled softly. “Don't worry. Your punishment will be that I'm only assigning you male partners from now on.”

“Ooh. Tough play, sir, but a swing and a miss.” Lance knocked back another shot of whiskey and flopped back against the couch. “I like the boys and the girls just the same.”

“But you make an exception for me? I'm hurt.” Phil said with an exaggerated pout.

“Only because I don't want to incur the fearsome wrath of Melinda May. I might be a randy bastard but I'm not a total idiot. I like having my organs on the inside, thank you very much.”

“What?” Coulson sputtered. “How... damn it!”

“What, you think no one knew? We're a bunch of spies! When I first came on it was less than twelve hours before I asked Skye if the two of you were banging.”

“And what did she say?”

“Not that she knew of for sure, but if you weren't, you should have been since... like, before Hydra ate S.H.I.E.L.D..” Lance responded with a thoroughly amused smile. “So it's true?”

Coulson chuckled to himself and shook his head. “I guess if everyone knows then there's no point in making a fuss. Yes, it's true.”

“So my reasoning still stands. I've already found out what happens when I shoot her. I definitely don't want to find out what happens if I make a pass at her man.”

“Well, we have an open arrangement, so she wouldn't be out for blood.”

“Really now?” Lance's brows arched towards his hairline. “Would have expected you two to be the more conventional types.”

“Then you really don't know either of us very well.” he answered with a cryptic smile

“I'll grant you that.” Lance nodded, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “In that case, would you care to remedy that on our end at least? Assuming you're into guys, of course.”

Phil shrugged and cut him a wicked grin. “It's been awhile, but I am. Shall we?”

“After you, sir.” Lance gave an overly gracious little bow.

Phil grabbed Lance by the collar of his shirt and kissed him roughly. Lance sucked in a sharp gasp, clearly not expecting Phil to be so aggressive, but instinct quickly took over and he went with it, letting himself go slightly boneless under Phil's forceful grip. Phil felt him give and took the opportunity to topple him backwards across the couch.

Phil mouthed across Lance's jawline, loving the rasp of his stubble across his lips. Lance was panting for breath, and arching into him, as he tugged his white button down shirt free from his pants.

“Y'know something, mate?” he asked, nosing against Phil's collar. “I actually have always wanted to peel you out of one of these shirts.”

“That so?” Phil replied as his lips crept down towards the hollow of his throat. “Is that why I've caught you staring at me during briefings?”

“Guilty as charged.” Lance replied with a rakish grin that was immediately stolen from his face when Phil's teeth found his ear. He hissed sharply and moaned, “Bloody hell, sir.”

Phil pulled back a little. “Too much?”

Lance gave him a blithely bewildered smile. “No, I just didn't expect you to be quite so forward is all.”

“Oh. And you don't have to call me 'sir,' y'know. I usually only make May do that.”

He snorted in disbelief. “Yeah, I'll bet.” he replied, snaking one hand behind Phil's head and pulling him down for another kiss as he finished pulling his shirt free. He set to work on the buttons, tracing a line of kisses down his collar as the white fabric peeled back from Phil's skin.

But he stopped when he saw the scar. He stared for a brief moment before quickly raising his eyes to Phil's face, searching for a reaction.

“It's ugly, I know.” Phil sighed with a sad smile. He was clearly somewhat ashamed of the mark, but made no effort to conceal it or his feelings.

Lance managed to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth as he shook his head, “No, mate, it's not ugly. Just... looking at it is intense. I mean, I knew about it. Heard the stories and all but...” He reached up on instinct to trace a finger down the twisted line of scar tissue but stopped himself before touching it, looking to Phil for permission. When he nodded, Lance slid his middle finger along the scar, feeling the bumps and ridges. “It makes all this craziness of aliens and magic crystals and gods from fuck knows where... it makes the fact that we're in serious danger real. Scary real.” Lance pulled his hand back and placed it firmly around the back of Phil's neck. “But I'm glad this wasn't curtains for you. Because if Hydra had risen and you hadn't been there, I'm not sure how well it would have gone for any of us.”

Phil smiled in spite of himself, feeling a soft blush creep up his face. Lance was only the second person he had willingly shown that scar to, the other of course being Melinda. A fierce and warm appreciation swelled in Phil's chest for Lance and his loyalty that he kept buried under his carefully curated armor of swagger and snark. He wanted to tell him, somehow, but rather than try to put it into words, he just leaned down to kiss him again. He licked into his mouth and each stroke of his tongue drew blissful moans from Lance's throat as he pulled the shirt the rest of the way off.

Phil's hands found their way under Lance's shirt, palms skimming over the taut angles of his chest. Lance not being one for patience, broke their kiss to quickly rid himself of it. Phil set to work laying a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses down his chest before sucking one of his nipples into his mouth. Lance moaned aloud and actually laughed.

“What?” Phil asked dryly as he nibbled gingerly around Lance's other nipple.

“You... you really are far more forward than I was expecting.” he replied with a breathless chuckle.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Oh absolutely.” Lance very nearly growled, bucking his hips up to rub his growing erection against Phil's thigh.

“Good.” Phil said with a wicked smile. He scraped his teeth delicately over his nipple one more time before working his mouth lower. As his tongue traced the sharp lines of Lance's abs, Phil reached down and palmed Lance's cock through his jeans, making him shiver and writhe in his grip.

“Tell me, Lance,” Phil whispered roughly. “Do you have a preference on your foreplay? Manual or oral?”

“Fuck...” He swore, grinding himself up into Phil's palm. “What... whatever you will enjoy.” he stammered.

“I must admit, I have a bit of an oral fixation myself.” he replied, sitting up and catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he undid the fly of Lance's jeans.

“I... I know.” he said, roguish smile flickering as Phil peeled his jeans open. “You seem to enjoy chewing on your writing utensils during briefings. Never... never wanted to be a pen so badly in all my life.”

“Well, that answers that then.” Phil said, tugging the elastic of Lance's boxers down and watching hungrily as his flushed cock bobbed out. Phil settled down with his elbows on either side of Lance's hips and hovered his lips over the underside of his cock. At first he just breathed against the sensitive skin. A soft puff of air that caused Lance to whine softly. Then he took the tip of his tongue and dragged it ever so slowly and lightly up the pulsing vein and over the already glistening head. Lance moaned louder as his hands found Phil's forearms. Phil repeated the motion, with just a little more pressure, and it was all Lance could do to keep his hips from chasing the sensation.

“Fuck, Coulson, you're a tease.” he ground out.

“First of all, if I'm going to suck your cock, it's Phil.” he replied smirking up at him. His lips were so close to his dick that Lance could feel every word ghosting across his sensitive shaft. “And second, why the rush?” he asked playfully, giving Lance's package an appraising look. “You're not the only one that entertains idle fantasies during boring briefings. I'm going to enjoy this.”

Phil flattened his tongue against the underside of Lance's cock and gave him a long, wet lick that Lance couldn't help but thrust into. Phil alternated the broad strokes with wet kisses, and pretty little licks to the head that had Lance writhing and whining, wanting more. More friction. More warmth. More wet. More everything.

After what seemed like an eternity, Phil obliged him, first making a show of wetting his lips before sucking Lance down all in one go. Lance gasped, hands tightening around Phil's forearms with the effort of not thrusting into the intoxicating liquid warmth of Phil's mouth. Phil hollowed his cheeks and sucked, dragging his tongue over the thick vein with delicious friction. He could hear Lance moaning and feel his cock twitching in his lips as fresh, salty pre-come coated his tongue on each pass. He allowed it to goad his own desire, his cock tenting his suit pants as he continued working Lance's length in languid, heavy strokes. 

Lance's hands migrated to his shoulders, not directing or forcing, but almost as if he was grounding himself. Phil hummed around his cock and Lance went boneless underneath him. “Jesus, Phil.” he gasped. “Fuck...” his grip on Phil's shoulders tightened. “God, unless you want me to come like this, you have got to stop.”

Phil pulled off him with an obscene sound, and sat up, wiping his swollen lips with one thumb.

Lance sat forward and covered Phil's mouth with his own, dragging his tongue over his lips and tasting himself there. “I want you to fuck me.” he told him in a ragged whisper, his brown eyes shot nearly black with desire.

“You're fine being on bottom?”

“Unless you'd rather?” Lance responded, fighting to catch his breath.

“No, that's fine with me.” Phil said, sitting back and stripping out of his suit pants and underwear. “I wonder if there's anything here we can use as-”

“Lube?” Lance filled in helpfully. Phil looked over to see he was holding a bottle of the stuff and he couldn't keep the surprise off his face. Lance shot him a withering look. “I travel with two cut glass whiskey glasses and you're surprised I also travel with lube.”

“Between you and May, I'm considering making it standard op gear.”

“Please do.” Lance responded, pulling his jeans the rest of the way off and reclining back across the couch. Phil couldn't stop himself from enjoying the sight for a moment. He looked for all the world like a center-fold straight out of a filthy magazine. Lance caught on, and reached down to lazily stroke himself, baiting Phil to join him.

“Y'know if I look thoroughly debauched, it's your fault.” Lance purred, tossing Phil the bottle of lube and spreading his legs out, his cock bouncing against the taut lines of his stomach.

Phil licked his lips and tried to concentrate on something other than his throbbing cock. It didn't help that Lance's eyes, glazed with want, kept darting down as he meaningfully chewed on his lower lip. “Are you wanting something?” he asked, dragging his thumb across Lance's bottom lip.

“Maybe a little payback?” Lance's pretty mouth curled into a wicked smile as he reached out and pulled on Phil's hip. When he had him standing between his knees, cock directly in front of his face, he smoothed the tip of his tongue over the head of his cock. Phil sucked in little gasps between his teeth as Lance's tongue painted feather light lines all over his throbbing erection. He couldn't keep from jumping and twitching as he never knew where Lance's tongue would caress next.

When Lance began sliding his length into his mouth, Phil felt his hands reflexively move to the back of his head. Old habit, and he would have caught himself had the movement not made Lance emit the filthiest little moan around Phil's cock. So Phil's hand rested gently on the back of his neck as Lance worked is length with such dizzying precision that Phil's vision was going fuzzy. Apparently, Lance Hunter failed to properly fill out the “skills” section of his S.H.I.E.L.D. application, because Phil might have taken advantage of this sooner had he known Lance knew how to deep throat.

“God... Lance if you want my cock in your ass...” Phil's warning was cut off by a long low moan as Lance dragged him slowly... so slowly out of his deliciously hot mouth.

Phil crawled on top of him as he lay back, sliding one freshly lubed finger down over Lance's balls to circle lightly at the puckered muscle of his hole. He gave a filthy groan, spreading his legs even wider and leaning up to kiss Phil who caught his bottom lip in his teeth and started sucking. As he was nibbling at his mouth, Phil slipped his fingertip inside as Lance's body began to give way. Just a single curling intrusion that he repeated until he had Lance arching and grinding towards it. Even though he was on top, he was going to let Lance drive, since he knew his limits better than Phil did. But so as not to be a tease, Phil rolled his hips down over his hips, allowing their cocks to brush lighting against each other.

“Fuck.” Lance swore into Phil's mouth, hips stuttering a little as he couldn't decide if he wanted to thrust against the branding-hot length of Phil's cock or drive himself down onto his deliciously slick fingers. By now, Lance's ass was greedily taking in a single digit so Phil added a second, which made him hiss at first but he didn't stop thrusting. Lance dropped his head to rest on the other man's shoulder and let out a long whining moan as he felt Phil's fingers crook inside him, finding that sweet spot on the first try. He added a third finger since the second slipped in so easily, feeling Lance relax for him as he did. Jesus, but this was going to be awesome.

“I'm good, sir. Phil...” Lance gasped, still rolling himself shallowly down onto Phil's hand. “If... if you're ready.”

Phil smiled but said nothing as he slid his hand out gently and wiped it clean on the top of the couch.

“Not worried about the upholstery?” Lance snarked, his characteristic smirk gone soft with lust.

“I have a running bill with Fury.” Phil responded with a dry smile as he lubed himself up. “Ready?”

“More than you know.”

“I'm fairly certain I have some idea.”

Phil lined himself up and began slowly driving his cock into Lance's wonderfully tight ass. God, it was so good. Lance was warm and willing, and it was making Phil see stars. He had to pause halfway to take a deep breath.

“That good, eh?” 

Phil opened his eyes to see Lance grinning up at him like a cat that had eaten a whole pet store's stock of canaries. Phil laughed a little, running his hands up Lance's flanks to rest against his shoulders. He took another steadying breath and sheathed himself inside making them both moan aloud. Phil went to drop his head against his chest but Lance caught him, lifting his chin and kissing him slow and sweet as they began grinding their hips together in a sinuous rhythm.

Lance could feel Phil was still tense against him as they thrust together. He was being careful... gentle... tentative even. “You've been needing this.” he observed, skating his hands up over Phil's arching back. He opened his eyes and look down at him. The guarded expression that had been on Phil's face the whole time... that mask of dry humor and wit crumbled as he nodded. Lance let his own veneer slip as he caressed Phil's cheek. “Me too.” he whispered. “So stop being careful with me, and with yourself, and fuck me.”

Phil let all the air out of his lungs in one, desperate huff and began pounding into Lance in earnest, losing himself in deliciously tight heat of his body. A passionate wail punched out of Lance's throat as he clung to Phil's shoulders. Not for security or comfort, but so Phil didn't send him flying over the arm rest. His rhythm wasn't fast but it was punishing in its force. However, Phil's cock never failed to slide over Lance's prostate sending him quickly from merely aroused straight to his climax's doorstep. 

“Bloody hell...” he swore, short nails digging into Phil's shoulder. He ground his teeth together as he tried to hold back, but Phil reached down and took his straining cock in hand. He pumped him in rhythm with his thrusting, making Lance come with a strangled shout.

Phil wasn't far behind as Lance's body tightened around him. He thrust once more with all the force he could muster, vaguely aware that a loud crack had emitted from the couch, and held himself deep inside until the last shudder had past and the white hot stars had cleared from his vision.

For a moment they just stared at each other, blinking like owls in daylight. Then Lance smiled, and Phil laughed a little, and they both sat up, untangling from one another and looking for various bits of clothing to clean themselves up with. Then they both just sat for a moment side by side, still nude, still breathing hard, with their shoulders and knees just touching.

“I think you broke the couch.” Lance observed, giving a lopsided bounce on the middle cushion.

“I'll take it out of your paycheck.” Phil answered, his words a little fuzzy.

“I thought this place was supposed to be Hulk-proof.”

“I guess that didn't extend to the furniture.” Phil shrugged.

“I meant what I said earlier.” Lance said after a long silence.

“About what?” Phil looked at him.

“That you're one of the only people in this world I'd throw down with.” he answered, staring hard at the glasses on the table. “That list actually got a lot shorter today.”

“Don't say that just yet.” Phil replied. “I said the same thing about May once.”

“Really?”

“She was spying on me for Fury. For my own good admittedly... looking for signs of psychosis that were present in the other patients that underwent my... procedure. But still. I was furious.”

“I can't imagine you being mad at her. Like ever.”

“I wasn't for long. And thankfully I got the chance to make it right.”

“Somehow, I don't think Bobbi apologizing will make it any better.”

“May didn't apologize. I just decided it was too important to wait for an apology.”

He gave him an appraising look. “I always knew you were a good man, Coulson.”

“So are you, Hunter.” 

Lance made a noncommittal noise but said nothing else.

“So,” Phil huffed as he stood. “Now that we're better acquainted, do you plan to try and get to know May a little better?”

“Oh God, no. Not that she isn't smoking hot, but I know I'd wind up tied to her headboard and that just isn't a good look for me.”

“Oh what's the matter, Lance? Don't like it rough?”

“I'm a delicate flower, I'll have you know.”

“Yeah. I can tell. Delicate like a hand grenade.” Phil snorted. “Want the bed?” He jerked a thumb towards the bedroom.

“No, you can take it.” he answered, standing and starting to root around for his underwear.

Phil caught him by the elbow, making him look up. “Thanks, Lance.” he said. “For... everything.”

“Anytime, mate.” he replied, his roguish grin returning to full flower as he leaned over to capture Phil's lips in his. “Good night.”

“See you in the morning.”


End file.
